


Fast Enough

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan), kyo_chan



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: HyuRoi, M/M, fixit fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7722640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/kyo_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy’s life could be summed up in a single headline, one that was delivered to his door every day of his life.  He couldn’t get there fast enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fast Enough

**Author's Note:**

> HyuRoy Week Day 1: “Brotherhood”. I can’t help wanting a happy(er) ending than what we got. This piece assumes Hughes went into a coma instead of dying. Of course. XD I struggled with this prompt, but thankfully, my writers group came to the rescue with a prompt that fed right into this. Please enjoy!

Roy’s life could be summed up in a single headline, one that was delivered to his door every day of his life.

He couldn’t get there fast enough.

When he was learning alchemy, he struggled and stumbled over complex equations. Master Hawkeye looked at him disapprovingly while he pushed to better himself. The man never said anything; he didn’t have to. When Roy plodded through basic, he had his work cut out for him, a rival and surrogate big brother getting in his way. The finish line was always in sight, but sometimes he came in second. That night, when his phone rang in the late hours, a cryptic call from outside the military headquarters, he’d walked too slow or hesitated a moment too long. He had been unable to stop Bradley from separating his team, he’d been the last one to Father’s lair, he just…couldn’t.

Most of the time, he could put it away, not think about it because there were too many other things to occupy his mind, and boy was he grateful. But sometimes, it caught up with him. It lingered in the bottom of his whiskey glass, the last swallow taunting him, as if he couldn’t even down it quickly enough to burn away the ache. But he always poured another in spite of it. Those were bad nights that Hughes would scold him for if he were awake, but that voice in his ear was only a memory. He knew he should let go, they all should, but they didn’t dare. Maes slept on.

Roy continued moving forward, and once his thirst for vengeance had been quenched, he tried instead to make his brother-in-arms proud. He envisioned the warm smile, the way Hughes took years off his life just by taking his glasses off. Long after Promised Day, Roy would swear there wasn’t a day that went by he didn’t think about the man who changed his world. Whose death fueled the hottest fire Mustang had ever stoked in the hearth of his soul. He wanted to be more, do more, as if he could carry the torch for both of them. Surely, people knew, but they didn’t mention it, and he didn’t call attention to it.

At long last, when the peak of the election for Fuhrer drew near, he got a call. He dreaded calls that came in the dead of night, always braced himself for the worst.

“Major General Mustang, this is the critical care ward. Brigadier General Hughes–”

Roy’s blood ran cold, the receiver shook in his hand.

“–he’s reached consciousness. He’s asking for you.”

Roy couldn’t get there fast enough.


End file.
